


Mirror

by confusionandstardust



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 12:52:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19173667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confusionandstardust/pseuds/confusionandstardust
Summary: A shattered mirror, looking to be pieced back together.Felix Lee is a 20 year old currently in college, still battling demons from when he was young. The only person he feels he can confide in is Minho, a 22 year old who shares a similar past. Both seek solstice in each other, but eventually that’s not enough. But how can one recover from years of trauma?By getting rid of the person who started it all.





	Mirror

_He needed to get out._  
  
Pushing away the person desperate to comfort him, he ran, his heart beating wildly as he pushed his legs to the limit, wanting to get away.  
  
"FELIX! WAIT!"  
  
The loud calls behind him grew quieter and quieter, along with the voice in his head telling him to turn around. Felix had found that running had been the only way lately he could escape his problems, if just for a short while.  
  
Eventually, his feet led him in the direction of a small, run-down apartment complex on the outskirts of town. His safe place.  
  
Or rather, his safe person.  
  
Melodramatic as it may seem, there truly was only one other person who understood what Felix was going through, who understood his nightmares and inability to be completely okay.  
  
He knocked on the door frantically, hands shaking. A part of him worried that showing up at 3 o'clock in the morning meant he'd get no response, but considering how frequently he had done this in the past, he doubted this time would be any different.  
  
The door swung open to reveal a pair of obsidian eyes, obviously annoyed and tired.  
  
"What the hell--"  
  
Minho's eyes widened and then softened at the sight of Felix, not expecting the raven haired man at this hour. Felix tried to look apologetic, but couldn't muster much more than a "Sorry."  
  
"No, it's fine. I was up anyways. Come in," Minho said, and moved back to allow Felix to slip in. Felix knew Minho was lying, but still, he appreciated the gesture.  
  
Walking into Minho's apartment was always an interesting experience. Felix was never sure what to expect when he walked in, but he could always tell how Minho was doing based on the condition of the residence.  
  
Sometimes he'd find the place a wreck, a telltale sign that Minho had gone through one of his own episodes. Other days the place would be near spotless, which meant Minho was stressed about something. On the rare occasion though, he'd find someone else sleeping on the couch, a brunette man with a bad snoring problem. Felix hadn't yet figured out his name, and Minho refused to say anything about him. The most he had gotten out of him was a nickname Minho had crafted for him, "The Annoyance." Despite that, Felix could see there was an underlying affection Minho held for him.  
  
After all, Minho didn't like most people, and the fact that "The Annoyance" had not only been in his apartment, but also spent the night meant that he was something special, whether Minho wanted to admit it or not.  
  
Tonight though, Felix found the apartment in a normal amount of disarray. That meant that Minho was feeling normal. Well, as normal as he could feel.  
  
_‘I wish I could say the same.’_ Felix thought, bitterness sweeping through like poison in the cracks of his mind.  
  
Cracks was probably the best way to put it. Felix's mind was like a mirror that had been shattered beyond repair. It was a wonder to him why anyone still bothered with him at all.  
  
_‘There's no fixing me. All that can be done is picking up the broken glass pieces in hopes that no one else gets hurt.’_  
  
The feeling of warmth on his right shoulder pulled Felix out of his reverie, and he flinched at the unexpected contact. Felix felt a tinge of slight resentment at Minho's worried gaze, although not directed at him. Rather, the younger man loathed that look. He had seen that look far too many times, from various people. In their eyes he could see their pity for him, a pity Felix didn't desire.  
  
Minho was who he saw it from the most, but with that worry came Minho's own understanding of his issues. Felix supposed that was why his gaze was the only one he could stand.  
  
The hand on his shoulder disappeared and soon after he heard the sound of a switch flicking on.  
  
Turning around, he saw Minho in his tiny kitchen, powering on his coffee maker.  
  
"Sit down." Minho, said, not turning around.  
  
"Stand up for much longer and you'll probably collapse. Actually, no, you'll definitely collapse, and I'm not looking to lug your fainted body anywhere. It's too early for that." Felix let out an exaggerated sigh, taking a seat at the square table that separated him from the sleep deprived man. Although not okay, he felt relaxed in Minho's presence. He didn't have to pretend with him like he did the others.  
  
The terrible red string of fate had brought them together through their similar pasts, pasts that weighed heavily in both their minds constantly. They both understood each other at a level no one else could, a bond drenched in emotional and physical pain, with bloodshed.  
  
They did have very different ways of coping with their trauma though. Minho destroyed everything he saw on sight, and Felix ran. Eventually he'd always find himself here though. In this one-bedroom apartment with the only person who knew Felix's worse sides and their origin. The one person he knew would never judge him, or leave him to rot.  
  
_‘Minho is the one who holds my broken pieces. I need him, but I hate that because of me he'll forever have cut, bloodied hands.’_  
  
"Here." Minho handed Felix the cup of steaming liquid, taking a seat across from him. Minho ran his fingers through his messy blond hair and sighed; a sign that he was thinking. Felix clutched the hot drink in his hands, giving his freezing hands some warmth. Rarely did he ever actually drink the coffee Minho made, rather, the scent and feeling of it was enough for Felix. He doubted he could stomach it anyway.  
  
"Was it another nightmare?" Felix nodded, unable to speak. He worried saying it aloud may bring forth the memory of it. Although he had nightmares every night, this one was particularly bad. Most people wake up in a cold sweat over things that aren't real, like ghosts and monsters that come out from closets and underneath beds.  
  
Felix wished his nightmares could be that simple. Something that frightens you in the moment but you wake up afterwards and laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Unfortunately for him though, his nightmares chilled him to his bone whether he was awake or sleep.  
  
This is because the monsters he faced were real.  
  
His dreams were not so much dreams as much as they were memories, playing over and over again his mind. That in and of itself wasn't cause for concern, except for his dreams only relived one memory.  
  
The memory of the day when his mirror broke.  
  
\---  
  
_"You won't leave me, right?"_  
  
_"Of course not, --------"_

_\---_

  
_Screaming. Laughter. Soulless black eyes show a wild glint in them, as metal shines brightly in the moonlight._  
  
_‘It's cold. Everything h u r t s.’_  
  
_"Where are they now, Felix? I thought you two were suppose to stay together. "_  
_  
_ The dagger presses dangerously against the boy’s neck, and maniacal laughter rips out of the man’s throat. The child’s eyes shut at the grotesque sight of the man’s malevolent amusement, only to open once again at the sound of his name.

 _"Felix, Felix, Felix..."_  
  
"FELIX!"  
  
Felix's head snapped up to find himself on the floor, curled into a fetal position. Noticing the cup in his hand was gone, his eyes trailed over to the kitchen, where it lay on the floor a few feet away from him, a pool of coffee surrounding the porcelain cup.  
  
That’s when Felix felt hands are wrapped around his forearms, shaking him. His eyes met Minho's, and the man visibly relaxed. The hands released their hold, and Felix instinctively reached out for Minho's hand, grasping it tightly. A sigh escaped the blond, and without further prompting he took Felix's other hand, helping him to his feet. Not fully recovered, Felix's knees buckled beneath him, causing him to fall onto Minho. Nearly falling, the obsidian eyed man rolled his eyes and moved Felix over to the couch.  
  
Unceremoniously throwing him down, he sat down beside the weak kneed man, turning on the TV. He then grabbed the blanket he had slung over his couch, wrapping them both in it, and began flipping through the channels.  
  
Minho was always like this. He had stopped asking Felix to explain what was going on his head a long time ago, and instead just worked to keep his mind off of it. Whether his methods helped long-term or not, that didn't matter. Felix just needed a reprieve from the never-ending nightmares for awhile, not a solution.  
  
He doubted there was one anyway.  
  
Still, the guilt of keeping Minho up this late was eating him alive. He could see the exhaustion in Minho’s eyes, and could already imagine the bags under his eyes he’d have tomorrow. He could practically feel the man’s desperate struggle with his body to not circum to the gentle embrace of sleep.

Because of this however, Felix could also tell he cared. And that was enough for him.

Despite the tight grip he had on his hand, Felix was ready to apologize, to let go of his hand and tell him to go to bed. He could already see himself forcing a smile, telling him that he was fine now, and would fix the mess he made.  
  
The mess he always made.  
  
"Minho, I-"  
  
"It's fine. It doesn't look like either of us are getting much sleep tonight." The way Minho seemed to always know what Felix was about to say surprised the younger man. Was he really that predictable? Nonetheless, he tried again.  
  
"But, I-"  
  
"I know, Felix. I know."  
  
Minho kept his gaze on the TV, however Felix could feel his hand gently squeezing his. Unable to find the words to continue arguing, Felix quieted, and settled in to watching the flashing lights dance across the TV screen, his mind finally settling.  
  
And, for a while, it felt almost as if his glass pieces were put back together.


End file.
